Love In A Time of Chaos
by sugar coated bullets
Summary: Lydia Crenshaw comes back to Gotham once more to reveal to her brother, Bruce Wayne, of their relations, however, upon her arrival she is caught in between the traverse battle between her brother's alter-ego and the Joker's uncanny compassion for her...
1. AUTHOR'S NOTES AND EXPECTATIONS

**AUTHORS NOTE AND PLANS FOR "**_**LOVE IN A TIME OF CHAOS**_**" **

**Hello loyal fans/reviewers.**

**I want to apologize for delaying on the updates however, I have a little surprise: I have finally re-written everything!**

**I have taken time to go back and refine almost every little detail for your entertainment, however, there a few things I need to discuss with you before you begin this (or in most of your cases, re-read –and for that I apologize a thousand times over again)**

1) You guys need to remain open about this story. I am trying to capture not only the Joker's insane side but also his 'sane' side as well. For a human being to completely shut themselves out of affection and emotions would leave anyone empty and dead, and without motivation but the Joker as motivation and it's called Anarchy.

If he is driven to convince the citizens of Gotham of his point of view then he is perfectly capable of acting human and that means opening up to someone, not just anyone obviously, but it is possible for him to 'love' again.

2)I have taken the time to re-write Bruce's life, Lydia's life and the Joker' former life of Jack Napier. They are incredibly detailed and it is imperative that you pay attention, regardless if you are slightly bored because I'll admit, not every part of my new refined story is interesting but because of the way I've designed this story, it will definitely come up to speed and you'll be hooked after the first six chapters, I promise!

3) Like I explained earlier, I re wrote everything. Everything. So this means it is more detailed and some chapters will be short and others will be long, however, I need your attention! The first couple chapters, like the first six to be exact, aren't going to be all too exciting except for the flashbacks (I hope they're somewhat insightful) and Lydia's run in with the Joker. However, please don't get too bored, keep reading, you need to know most of the information and I promise you a most fulfilling story!

**Anyway, I hope you guys like the new and improved version. I hope I don't disappoint and thank you so much for sticking it out with me! Enjoy!**


	2. Atonement

**CHAPTER ONE: ATONEMENT**

**I. GOTHAM REGIONAL AVIATION PARKWAY**

The sun beat down upon Lydia's back as she walked on past a group of bystanders waiting for a bus. She kept glancing at her previous ticket, from her once grounded flight from New Jersey, and crinkled it within her palms.

Lydia Michelle Crenshaw was everything every man would've wanted, besides the fact of her hourglass and tall figure; she was every bit of smart and every bit of spice in a quite little smile. She had long brown, almost black, hair flowing down just below her shoulders and her dark; almond shaped eyes pierced all imagery surrounding her. However, from where she stood, she was standing, waiting and a little confused.

Her dark eyes seethed toward the road that winded up over the curb and bended below the flat soles of her shoes.

In the distance she could see the beautiful, glittering skyline of Gotham's buildings, painting the pale canvas of the marble blue sky. She shielded her eyes when a flicker of light, bouncing from the windshield of an approaching car, flashed before her eyes. The lush vehicle pulled up in front of her and she stared, confused, at the passenger side's window.

An older man, with graying hair but a cheerful façade appeared, now, before her, stepping out of the driver's side of the car. He looked over at her.

"Miss Crenshaw, I presume?" He asked.

"Yes –you must be…Alfred?" Lydia's eyes gleamed with perplexing irises as she graced her fingertips along the zipper of her suitcase. He came around to her with open arms. Alfred embraced her tightly.

"He doesn't know I'm here, does he?" She whispered.

"Not at all."

Without another word, Alfred tended to her bags and offered her, with an open door, to the passenger side. Lydia nodded and sat herself within the plush leather seats.

"I could help…" She said, faintly.

"My pleasure. You sit right there." He smiled, closing the door for her and loading her things.

**II. RESTAURANT**

"Rachel," Bruce said, "fancy that."

"Yea, Bruce," She mocked, condescendingly, looking fiercely up at him with a fake smile, "fancy that."

"Rachel, Natasha," Bruce moved aside to introduce his lovely date, "Natasha, Rachel."

Natasha smiled pleasantly at both of them, keeping her keen eyes with contemptuous warmth and serenity, when interrupting the couple's dinner. She leaned over when Rachel's eyes lit up momentarily.

"Natasha…are you the uh"—Bruce swiftly intervened, as if showing off a prized medal, dazzling them with his smile, "the prestigious ballerina for the Moscow Ballet."

"Wow," Rachel said, "Harvey's taking me next week."

Bruce couldn't resist much longer, now looking over at Harvey with a simpering grin, "Really," before sighing inwardly, "so you're into ballet?"

"Bruce," She said overlooking the slight insult, "This is Harvey Dent." She nodded in Harvey's direction so that Bruce would take notice. And he did, with a slight nod and reached for Harvey's outstretched hand and shook.

"The famous Bruce Wayne," He said, "Rachel's told me everything about you." Harvey becoming annoyed that his and Rachel's evening plans were allowing impolite interruptions but none of the insults he was slapped with was to be taken seriously, so Harvey merely smiled.

Bruce found it a little flustering to having met Rachel's significant other, and cleared his throat, registering what exactly Harvey said.

"I most certainly hope not." He counter added with a smirk, looking over at Rachel now.

"So…" Bruce said, looking around, "let's put a couple tables together."

Rachel looked anxiously around and saw Harvey panic slightly, looking for his waiter but she graced his wrist with her fingers with a warm smile.

"Not sure they'll let us…" Harvey said wistfully. Bruce chuckled a little before looking at Natasha with a smile

"Oh they should," He reassured, "I own the place." Bruce flickering his wrist to a waiter, motioning for table to conjoin.

**III. BRUCE WAYNE'S PENTHOUSE (AFTER DINNER)**

Bruce let himself through the door of his penthouse and walked quietly through, throwing his suit jacket on the backside of a chair at his dining room table.

"Alfred!" He called just before he caught eyes with a striking young lady, sitting by herself on couch. Her eyes intently read a book when her dark, brown eyes glanced in his direction.

"Oh, I'm sorry, I wasn't aware I had a guest"—Bruce stuttered before Alfred entered from the hallway.

"Yes, Master Wayne?" Alfred now appeared, to Lydia and Bruce's right, and he allowed a smile to grace his mouth.

"Ah, yes, Sir, forgive me, but," Alfred walked over to where Lydia sat. She now shut her book and beamed into Bruce's confused eyes.

"this is Lydia Crenshaw. She's come to talk with you tonight. I do hope you'll show her the courtesy of a few spare moments, if not a polite quaint conversation." Alfred said slyly before slipping himself out of the room.

Lydia watched Bruce as he settled himself adjacent from her in cushioned chair. He adjusted his tie and watched her resituate herself.

"Pleasure to finally meet you," She said quietly, offering a quiet, small smile. She leaned forward and began to pull things out of her purse, which sat safely underneath the glass coffee table separating her and Bruce.

"I do apologize arriving on such short notice but I came to find out who you were." She began.

Bruce became instantly confused and his brows furrowed.

"I know all of this makes no sense but," She revealed among the disarray of old, and new crinkling papers, displayed upon the table, a large family portrait. It's edges aged and yellow and the color washed dramatically out into almost a monochromatic picture.

"I brought this to perhaps clarify why I'm here."

She handed Bruce the picture and he took it. As his eyes scan briefly over its' contents and as he did so, his eyes welled with apprehension. His dark eyes were cast at her in ruptured glances, almost as if he couldn't believe what he was seeing.

The picture, he examined, was an old portrait of himself, his mother, his father and in his mother's arm, a baby girl…

"What is this? Well –I know what it is, it's me and…" His voice trailed off as his fingers graced the surface of the photograph.

"It's our portrait." Lydia answered.

Bruce scrutinized his mother's appearance in the picture and compared the deeply similar values the woman, Lydia, possessed. Her dark, chocolate eyes complimented his mother's while Lydia's hair, less tamed, more curled, exemplified her own beautiful persona. Bruce could see his mother with in her eyes most, and when she talked, it was as if he was listening to his mother's voice all over again…

"Our?" His voice light, confused.

"Yes. I know it's quite confusing but," She took out another slip of paper, this time, it was a birth certificate; Lydia handed it to him. Bruce received the aged slip of parchment and scanned over it as well.

It a birth certificate belonging to Lydia Michelle Wayne…

"Are you…? Do I…?"

"I know this is hard to believe Bruce, but I am your sister. And I understand if you'd rather me leave you alone, this is quite…shocking, I suppose."

"No, no," He said, "don't go. Stay. How did you find me? What happened? –I'm so, so…" His voice trailed off once more as he still read and reread the slip of paper she had handed him. His eyes still pouring over the portrait.

"I've always known you. Ever since mom and dad's accident. I came to tell you this because I'm seeking residence here, in Gotham, because I've been accepted into GU. I didn't see it fit that we should go on living without knowing of each other's existence."

Just then Alfred, having been previously eavesdropping on their conversation, came walking through the threshold. Both Bruce and Lydia's eyes watched him as he neared them.

"I took the liberty of helping Lydia when she called after being assisted by an operator. She told me she was looking for a Bruce Wayne and while you were at work sir, I took the liberty of scheduling you two to meet. I found the situation imperative, however, I must confess, I've known of Lydia for a very long time. She may not have known but I saw it best that you two did grow up in different areas, seeing, as well, sir," He sighed, "you took almost a seven year trip and bringing Lydia back here would probably make it worse on you both. I do hope you understand."

Bruce nodded and then looked at Lydia.

"Where did you live then?"

"I was taken care of by a foster family in New Jersey. They were," She sighed, trying to mask the unmistakable lie that was about to unfold, "wonderful people."

Bruce eyed her cautiously but as his fingers still folded beneath papers, he glanced at them once more. Befuddlement clouded all other expression as his furrowed brows tried concentrating on the beautiful baby girl, Lydia, being cradled within his mother's arm. Bruce's father's hand rested on his mother's shoulder, while his free hand was steadied by Bruce's backside. They were all smiling, just as Bruce remembered they were, however, he couldn't place any memory, whatsoever, on Lydia. It was as if she was never born at all, until now, as she walked into his life.

Lydia cocked her head over, trying to analyze the imperfect and flawed emotion washing over Bruce's face. She tried steadying her shaking palms but nothing prevailed. She finally drew in a long, fresh breath.

"You don't remember me, at all, do you?"

"I'm sorry, I don't." Bruce answered, handing her things back; she shook her head.

"No," She smiled sweetly, "you keep them. I want you to. That's why I brought them."

"How then do I not remember you? I mean wasn't I of age to remember if I had a sister or not?"

Alfred chuckled as he was just leaving the room and turned to them, giving a wry smile.

"Sir, if I do recollect, you hardly remembered anything aside from your father and mother murder at the time, so"—

"You must've been too traumatized to remember I was there. Perhaps," Lydia offered, sliding into Alfred's sentence, "that was your way of recovering –to forget anything that reminded you of them…And, I was taken to child services. I don't remember anything much before that, like, where you went but I just remember never really understanding why I was put in the orphanage. My foster parents were obligated to tell me, in detail, what happened to my real parents. I even had newspaper articles about their murder…It was…" Lydia shuddered; the pictures, which she saw in the news clippings, reverberated from the void of her mind, flashed in her eyes.

"Horrifying."

Bruce watched her struggle to keep her nerve in tact and paid a glance to Alfred. He nodded encouragingly before dismissing himself.

"I am sorry." Bruce said.

"What on earth could you be apologizing for?" Lydia asked.

"I'm sorry for not remembering you –how much of big brother am I if I can't even remember my own sister. I can't believe I…" Bruce struggle to articulate but his voice trailed off.

"Don't apologize Bruce. I can't imagine you doing otherwise with all the things you were put through. After all, you saw them murdered –I probably would've done the same if I was in your place."

The irony in her statement made Bruce cringe –would she have taken on the Batman like persona he did, or perhaps, would she had become something even more terrifying? Bruce brushed the thoughts away and saw her gathering her things.

"Won't you stay?" He asked, standing up as she stood as well.

"That's not necessary. I have a hotel"—

"No," He pronounced, "you can stay here. I'd feel better, if you want to."

Lydia watched Bruce as he stood, loosening his tie. His eyes were piercing and oddly terrifying as they shot glances at her.

"Alright," She said, "I'll stay, at least until I find an apartment."

**IV. PRE-JOKER - COMPLEX (SOUTHSIDE GOTHAM GHETTOS)**

In an abandoned alley, in the back of Gotham's eastside slum, a character rummaged around now in his one bedroom complex. It was heavily dowsed in the smell of gasoline and smoke.

His face was clear, piercing and beautifully horrifying as the creased of his lips curved into a permanent smile. The scars stretched from the corner of his mouth, all the way into the dimples of his cheeks. His eyes, however, dead and almost colorless, glistened in the streetlight's glitter with a pale-blue like hazel tint. They flashed through the window as he sat, smoking away on a cigarette. He had been trying to control his laughter for a while now but somehow nothing was working.

It wasn't anything hysterical, not at all, but his chuckles were light and eerie. His lashes flickered as he blinked, trying to focus on the approaching indigo sky turned to dusk.

He fidgeted crazily as he straightened his white dress shirt.

"This city deserves something more," He whispered to himself, "this city deserves me."

**Alright, so now that we've not only introduced Miss Lydia Crenshaw, and her relationship to her brother Bruce, we've also introduced the Joker, just before he slips off into motivation that drives him to reek anarchy into the city of Gotham! The next chapter will explore the intricacies of Bruce's traumatizing accident, Lydia's whole childhood and growing up. You might even begin to see the similarities between her and the Joker ;) **


	3. Memoirs Of A Broken Precedent

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: THIS ISN'T PRESENT TIME, OBVIOUSLY, BY THE TITLE, BUT TO RE-CLARIFY, THIS CHAPTER WILL BE LONG BUT IT WILL BE SO ON PURPOSE. IT WILL EXPLAIN THE LIVES OF BOTH BRUCE AND LYDIA'S CHILDHOOD. **

**CHAPTER TWO: MEMOIRS OF A BROKEN PRECEDENT**

**I. ONE OF GOTHAM'S MANY THEATERS (EASTSIDE BUSINESS DISTRICT) **

They were walking and chatting happily. Bruce had been reciting the lines of the previous movie his parents had taken him to. He was too enthralled by the brilliant imagery implanted in his memory to notice that his mother and father had been pulled into an alley.

Two thugs threatened loudly as Thomas, Bruce's father, struggled to pull Martha, Bruce's mother, away back into the safety of the streetlamps and sidewalks.

"Listen Tom," One of them snapped, pulling roughly at the pearls of Martha's pearl necklace, "we don't want anything other than we've been asking for –give it to us, or we'll just have to take this pretty lady off your hands."

"You leave my wife out of this!" Thomas shouted, grabbing Martha away. The thug ripped the necklace off, allowing the beads of white to bounce and crash loudly in the pavement.

Bruce, playing in the streets then found himself all alone among of crowded people. He searched blindly for his parents, being knocked and pushed aside until he heard the sound of his mother's voice –she screamed. There was too much commotion surround him for others to have noticed but he could tell it was her –she was in danger!

"Mom? Mom!" Bruce fanatically pushed himself through the crowd, following the sound but when he finally able to see and breathe clearly the only thing he saw was the color red…

"Bruce! Run Bruce! Run!" Thomas yelled as he lay on the ground, crawling and pulling himself along the dirty ground.

Bruce ignored all voices of his commanding parents and came near them.

"Listen to your father, please Bruce," She whimpered, grasping her side, soaked in crimson, "please, run. Run! Bruce run!"

A gunshot was fired once more from the shadowed alley, whizzing past Bruce, knocking him in a state of fear. He was locked, crouching near his dying parents, with their pleading eyes. His fingers trembled with both fear and anger as he searched behind them in the shadow of the alley. No one could be seen.

Another fire…

"Bruce! Run!" His mother cried.

Bruce's feet picked up. His toes tingling in the soles of his shoes, beating against the cement as his body drove him away from everything he loved and knew until he was wandering, alone, by himself underneath Gotham's glittering skyline…

Tears rolled violently from his red eyes until he slumped over three blocks away onto the corner of a building. He fell into a violent slumber when Police tracked him down.

**II. WAYNE MANOR**

"What should we do with Lydia?" A maid asked.

"Take her to an orphanage." Alfred answered. His eyes more with color and his head less with grey hair and more brown strands.

"Are you sure? Shouldn't she be entrusted to you?"

"It will be best if she grows up away from this. Bruce needs this time. I trust they'll meet each other in time."

"Very well then. I'll see she is given to a good family." She answered, cradling the baby within her arms.

**III. NEW JERSEY ORPHANAGE (TWELVE YEARS LATER – AFTER THOMAS AND MARTHA'S MURDER)**

Lydia's eyes glittered darkly in the shadows of a corner of the playroom. It had been a long wasted time spent, as she sat crumbling in confusion for nine years in the orphanage. She tried remembering everything she once knew but all that prevailed was a brief image of a woman, holding and cradling her, and then a man, dark and handsome, rubbing her head.

Nothing made sense, she thought, nothing ever made sense ever since she could remember. All that she tried remembering she wanted to forget, something, she thought wasn't right –maybe all that she knew never existed, a family, a brother, a Butler –maybe it was a figment of her imagination, she had convinced herself.

Her life, scarred with riddles and fabricated peoples, drowned her memory until the day she was adopted. A star worthy couple, came to adopt an obedient child however little did she know, or could understand, for what was about to unfold…

**IV. CRENSHAW HOUSEHOLD (LYDIA IS NOW 13 YEARS OLD)**

"This taste like shit," He spat as Lydia sat in the adjacent, connecting, room and stared at him with jaded eyes, "do you hear me!"

"Yes," She responded, quietly, looking disdainfully away as she took a bite to eat herself.

"Don't you roll your eyes at me girl," He raged under his breath, mumbling incoherent sentence and Lydia finally made no effort for eye contact with him.

She watched him drink. He had already had four an hour ago, why does he feel compelled, she wondered, to keep drinking?

When all the dishes had been picked up and cleaned, Lydia heard the front door open. Her mother, with baggy eyes and her usual plainness, her hair pulled back into a pony tail, came tumbling in.

"Hey sweetie," She said, kissing Lydia's forehead, "is Rick"—

"Charlotte!" Her father screamed from the other room, "Charlotte!"

Her mother's eyes averted away from Lydia with anger in her face. Just then Rick came thrashing through the door.

"Did you get some beer?" He spat, drunken with each step, came towards her.

"Nope." Her mother answered.

"Why the fuck not! I thought I told you"—He grasped Charolette's neck firmly, "to pick some up?"

Lydia's eyes grew wide as she backed away from them. She rendered herself in the kitchen nook, watching them intently. She knew they faught, yes, but she'd never seen her father so angry –and besides, she wondered, her mother had always picked up the alcohol, why didn't she this time?

"I'm not going to get your beer anymore," Her mother growled, "because I want a divorce."

"Oh, really? A divorce-ah?" Rick slurred, fuming, "well you go get my beer and I'll sign those damn papers,"—

"No!" Charolette struggled, pushing him off her but he caught her against the wall.

Lydia crouched now, trying to hide herself and covered her face. She whispered silently to herself a prayer. Something, anything, she thought to get her out of this place. She couldn't take it anymore as she averted her eyes to the loud noises.

Her mother was against the wall, Rick's hand clutching her throat between grinding fist and Lydia's stomach dropped. She stood, now, trembling, seeing her mother's eyes falter, her breaths jagged, and her movements becoming unresponsive.

"Stop it!" Lydia screamed, "Stop it! Stop it!" Her body moved quickly, pounding into Rick and knocked his grip off. He fell to the floor, holding his head and watching as Lydia stood near Charolette. Her mother's face was loosing temperature and her chest no longer moving…

"You stupid little bitch!" Rick pushed Lydia into the hallway door and sent her crashing into carpet. Her knees reddened instantly but she was able to push herself up in time. Her eyes faltered to the noises coming behind her and then she felt her hair being ripped up by the roots.

Lydia tried to pull away but he yanked harder, inducing more concentration to her scalp. The burning sensation began to seer into her vision, blurring her eye sight full of hot tears.

"Get away from me!" She kicked him, knocking him off balance. Lydia bolted down the hallway, towards the staircase and charged quickly upstairs.

Ricky was very close behind, huffing in a broad gust of air back into his chest before his feet began to pound up the wooden steps. Lydia's heart throbbed impatiently as she neared the end of the hallway, towards her room but was grabbed from behind.

His nails buried into her skin, immediately leaving a crease and a pale, pink waft of color welling underneath his grappling fingers. He shook her violently, causing her head to bob intensely back and fourth; her hair swung crazily.

"What the fuck is the matter with you!" He screamed, thrusting her into wall and slamming her head into the wood. Her eyes boggled from the impact and she felt shivers fill up the corners of her stomach.

Lydia stayed froze, not really concentrating on the words he was screaming but more on the silence that surrounded the commotion unfolding. She was scared, trembling forgetting the breathe until she was backhanded roughly.

"Are you listening to me girl!"

Her eyes faltered to the floor, absorbing the blow and tasting blood between her teeth and suddenly, her hands moved faster than her mind, she pushed him…

All she saw, tumbling down the staircase, directly behind, was his body, screaming and ranting. His limbs were flailing madly as she watched his head and feet collide together into the wood. The sounds were god awful, she thought, as she heard his body crack and break into the stairwell. Her eyes opened wide as the blood ran from her lips over her chin; it dribbled thickly.

When she looked down she saw Rick's body lying motionless upon the floor of the first floor she fell to her knees. Lydia rested her head against the carpet and screamed loudly. Her eyes clenched shut and her palms shaking. When she graced her fingers over the throbbing spot where he had struck her, she felt the creases of a deep cut, made by the own indention of her teeth, extending from the corner of her lips and slitting painfully barely an inch into her cheek.

Her body quaked and tears came rushing out…

**V. NEW JERSEY COURTHOUSE (6 months later)**

"You don't need to be afraid now," A woman said to the little girl as she sat twiddling her thumbs, "we will help you."

"I don't need help," Lydia pronounced looking up, "I killed him. I wanted to. I hated him."

"Lydia, dear," The woman bent over, pulling her closely, "you don't really want to go to juvinile confinement, do you?"

"Why shouldn't I? I did that to him on purpose." She seethed angrily.

The woman's eyes faltered sadly, eyeing her in disbelief. She gathered her purse quickly before the jury was to make their statement. She followed a man named John Mangnum who was eyeing her from the back of the courtroom, near the doors.

"Lydia," She said, "you stay right there. I'll be right back."

John lead her outside into the hallway, so that they were far away from any other bystanders who could be listening.

"John," She said, "She"—

"She's going to Juvy," He prounounced, "the Jury isn't buying it. With both her parents dead, and not one scratch on the kid it makes things appear very…vague. Even if she does go, she'll only be in there for a year at the most. She isn't old enough'—

"She has a cut, John but that's what I'm saying. She won't reveal it. She won't let me show them that she has evidence of Ricky beating her! It's like she wants to go."

"…maybe she does, Amanda. I would if was adopted by an abusive family. Not mention she doesn't know a thing about her past. That's not a very optimistic outlook…" He sighed sadly.

"John," Amanda growled, "I've been working with Lydia from the time I put her in that orphanage. She's my responsibility and I let her get beat by those lunatics and I won't let her go to jail for self defense! She doesn't deserve this."

John watched Amanda pace back and fourth sadly, her eyes faltered, fiddling with all her surroundings. Her eyes began to well in aspiration.

"Hey," He offered, "come here."

"No! This isn't right! That girl has been through more in the first thirteen years of her life than most people have endured for a lifetime! She's only a girl! She-She"—

John embraced her and held her as she sobbed quietly.

"I love her like she was my own daughter…"

Suddenly, an officer approached them in the corner.

"The Jury is about to deliver Lydia's sentence."

"Oh god…" John whispered, leading Amanda back through the Court's doors. They settled back beside Lydia and waited for the Jury to stand.

"All rise," An officer called just as the Judge made his way through the back door to his seat, "for the honorable Judge Wright," all stood; including Lydia, Amanda and John.

"Has the Jury reached its verdict?"

"We have your honor…" A man said, standing up tall and giving a sideways glance to Lydia. She shot him a piercing glance back.

Amanda stopped breathing and in that moment the whole courtroom was all in silence. John constantly rubbed his palms together, waiting for the deliverance of such a sentence. He couldn't remember to breathe as the man's jaw opened.

"We find the defendant, Lydia Michelle Crenshaw, guilty."

Amanda barely contained her gasp and her hands clenched together in a tight fist. She grabbed Lydia's hand. John immediately caressed Amanda's shoulders.

"Promise me," Amanda whispered in Lydia's ear, "you'll be a good girl."

**VI. A MONTH BEFORE LYDIA'S RELEASE FROM JUVENILE CONFINEMENT**

"Lydia," Amanda said, as her and Lydia sat in the private recreational room, "I came to talk to you about some…things." She tried smiling at Lydia, who returned with a slight nod.

"Is something wrong?" Lydia asked quietly. Her normal voice faltered somewhat and her cheerful facial expression fell.

"What? Nothing. Nothing at all," Amanda spoke softly, "I just came to congratulate you on your achievements here. I mean…you've done well in the classes and you have"—

"Amanda," Lydia said, "why have you come? I know something is wrong."

"Not at all, Lydia I swear, I just…I came to tell you about your family."

"My family is dead." Lydia interjected

"Yes, your foster family," Amanda's voice became strict, "But I came today to talk about your real family, Lydia, your real mother and father. I came to talk to you about them."

Lydia's mouth fell slightly ajar. She hadn't even, in her wildest dreams, imagined anything would be worth talking about over them. They obviously didn't want her, she thought.

"Why? They didn't want me"—

"Lydia," Amanda's voice snapped, "they were murdered. They were shot down in the streets in a city named Gotham… Will you please," She inhaled sharply, "stop being so bitter! Yes, you spent eleven years in an orphanage. Yes, you were beaten when you were a child and yes! You have spent almost two years here! Life is tough, Lydia, it is but you were not born by accident –your real parents wanted you and your parents loved you. And I love you…"

Lydia's eyes began to widen. Her mouth still agape as she stared at Amanda and she tried to formulate her thoughts. Her feelings darting in every which way they could possibly go, being that she wasn't only bitter, she knew this, but that she was so angry anyone and everyone –but why? Lydia wondered in that brief moment, why she was so angry when she's the only person, she could rightfully blame, was herself…No one, she thought, can make feel inferior, than yourself…

"I…I-I…" Her voice trailed off, when Lydia felt tears welling in her eyes. It had been a very long time since she allowed herself to cry. Probably, ever since she had pushed Ricky down the stairs was the last time she shed any kind of tear.

"Lydia, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have yelled. I just don't want you walking out of this place viewing the world as horribly as you assume just from your experiences. I know that doesn't make it any easier but I just want you to leave here happier and stronger." Amanda said thoughtfully, putting her hand in Lydia's. She squeezed back.

"I will."

"I know you will. You're a good girl, Lydia. You're a damn good girl"—Amanda suddenly embraced Lydia in a hug and kissed her on the forehead.

"I won't let anyone hurt you anymore. That's why I am taking you home with me when you get out of this place"—Amanda kissed her again on the cheek, "you hear me? I won't let anything else happen to you."

Lydia just kept nodding, keeping her tears within the creases of her eyelids, begging that they not roll over her cheeks but they overflowed. Amanda wiped them away.

"What can you tell me," Lydia signed inwardly, sobbing slightly, "about my parents? My real parents."

"They were good people. Your father, Thomas was a handsome, strong man and your mother was so caring, Lydia. She loved you very much. She was so stunning and and…" She hesitated, looking at Lydia, squeezing her hand, "they were gunned down in a street near a theater. Apparently, your father got involved with a mob and since he couldn't pay back something he owed"—

"Who killed them?" Lydia asked, trying to wipe away the tears.

"They closed the case after your brother went missing"—

"Brother? I have a brother?" Lydia's voiced cracked and her eyes began to narrow.

"Yes, his name is Bruce Wayne"—

"Why the hell didn't he try and find me!" Lydia ripped her hand away and stood out of the chair. Her feet trembled and she started to hyperventilate. Her eyes were welling again with tears. The frustration came to a boil and she could hardly contain herself; she needed to explode. She needed to scream.

"Why, Amanda! Why!"—

"Lydia, calm down"—

"No, damn it! No! Let me scream! I need this," Lydia sobbed, more tears falling down her cheeks, and her eyes squinted and red, "I deserve to scream! Why didn't he come looking for me? Why! He knows I'm"—

"Lydia!" Amanda stood, "Lydia he's went missing for seven years after their murder! Do you hear me? That boy watched them die –you didn't. And I know that doesn't mean it doesn't hurt any less but you have to understand, that boy was scared and Alfred did what he thought was best. He sent you to an orphanage so that you might be sheltered from what really happened until you were ready and he went looking for Bruce." Amanda softened her voice and watched Lydia thrash. Her hands were held over her head and she started to fall to the floor.

"And I know you deserve to be angry. You have every right to be ill at the world and you have every right to cry and to scream and to hurt but you are stronger than that. You hear me?" Amanda asked quietly, kneeling to the floor near Lydia. Lydia nodded, still sobbing.

"Who-Who is-s Alfred?"

"The butler. He was looking after you until he sought me out. He asked me to promise him to give you to someone good and to keep you away from all that until you were ready. If you should hate anyone, it's me. I gave you to those people," Amanda stuttered, "I let them hurt you and now you're here, all because I had a bad judge of character. I'm sorry, Lydia, for everything."

**So...Lydia was taken away when she was infant, grew up in a orphanage, beaten by her foster parents and sent to juvy in self defense -pretty screwed up, eh? Well eventually, she was taken in by her social services associate, Amanda, and grew up with a better understanding of the world. She forgave all that happened to her but that doesn't mean she forgot. She eventually got over Bruce not "finding her" and went to seek him. She became a stronger person and now, hopefully you see where the similarities rise and fall between her and the Joker. The next chapter will analyze the Joker's former life as Jack Napier so I hope you enjoyed! **


	4. Pestilence

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: THIS IS A RECOLLECTION OF THE JOKER'S FORMER LIFE, ESSENTIALLY, ITS BASICALLY THE SAME TREATMENT GIVEN TO HIM AS APPLIED TO LYDIA AND BRUCE **

**CHAPTER THREE: PESTILENCE**

**AS A SIDE NOTE, THIS IS DIVIDED BETWEEN LETTERS FROM JACK (the Joker) AND HIS LATE WIFE KAILEY (and his daughter, Matilda –haha, I know, Heath Ledger's daughter -) AND THE TRAGIC INCIDENT THAT HAPPENED TO HIM.**

**JACK'S FIRST LETTER**

_Fairest Kailey, Nov 9, 2007_

_I hope you are fairing better than I. The city seems to be fast moving, as you described, however I have yet to find your parents. I've been stricken with a fever and cold chills, however I have ushered myself to keep on. Do not fret. I will find your parents and will find us a place here. _

If I may ask, dearest, how is Matilda feeling? Since I left you both, I've had no way of knowing if her sore throat had disappeared or not but if it hasn't I will pick up something while I'm visiting Gotham.

_As I do write to you now Kailey I feel something stronger than ever before now that we are apart –I wish I could be with you once more but for now we have too many priorities to attend to and I will see to it that we find a place to live soon. _

_Until I am able to speak to you once more, my dearest Kailey and cherished Matilda, I bid you goodbye. I love you both very much. _

_All my love and affections, _

_Your husband, _

_Jack G. Napierre_

_KAILEY'S FIRST RESPONSE_

_Dearest Jack, Nov 12, 2007_

_I have received your letters and I cannot thank you enough for venturing into Gotham for me while I look after Matilda. We are to be evicted soon so I do hope you've found a job and perhaps an apartment near my parent's home. _

_Matilda's throat persists, Jack, and I'm afraid she will worsen if she is not seen by a physician soon. She can't swallow any longer but I've given her water to drink so that it may pass in her throat. If you could, since you are already tied down with many other obligations as it is, inspect the physicians in Gotham and see if you could schedule an appointment. Our eviction notice says we are to be out by November 23 and that will put Matilda and I on a train and in Gotham on November 25. _

_Thanksgiving was simply not the same without you, Jack, I was very lonely and with nothing to really eat, I decided to eat nothing without you here and gave whatever food we had left to Matilda. She isn't doing well though. She couldn't eat any of the food we had at all and Jack, I need you, more than ever. I can't describe the despair I feel without you around but I will contain my heart's contempt until I see you again on Sunday. _

_I miss you terribly. _

_With love, _

_Kailey_

**JACK'S SECOND LETTER**

_Fairest Kailey, November 15, 2007_

_Darling, can you believe there is such a human, surpassing all the unimaginable power, saving the people of this horrid place? The crime level is horrendous and I fear that will not be able to protect you by myself, however, a vigilante, known as Batman will keep us safe when I cannot provide. _

_It's quite funny actually, seeing this man mask himself in this suit and save all he can from danger. But I find it strangely soothing. I am amazed by his strength and audacity and I have found a suitable job –as a reporter. I am ironically in charge of capturing stories worthy enough to be posted in the Gotham columns about the Batman himself! I've watched him a lot Kailey and as much as I am unhappy about our current predicament, I am at peace knowing all will turn out as planned._

_I was so happy, Kailey, that I went out and invested into a wonderful new apartment. I've moved new furniture in it and got Vanessa her own room! Kailey, I even bought some new sheets for our bed. They're you're favorite shade of green and purple. _

_I have also found a physician for Matilda and I have explained to him the problems of her sickness. He seems very upset about it and wishes to see her immediately. I fear for her, with the utmost concern, because I sense some impending doom for our dearest Matilda. Please, Kailey, hurry along and I will see you on the train very, very soon. _

_All my love and affections, _

_Your husband, _

_Jack G. Napierre_

**CAILEY'S SECOND RESPONSE**

_Dearest Jack, November 19, 2007_

_As I write this, I cannot describe the lingering anguish I feel with you not around. I am happy but sad at the same time. I have begun packing for our departure and I am running frantically around for Matilda's needs. She is bedridden and I am afraid I won't be able to carry on without your strength beside me. I will find some way to get to you Jack –I will be on that train on Sunday and I will see your smiling face once more. _

_I am relieved to hear you have a job in such little time but have you found my parents yet? And who is this Batman you speak of? Is he as magnificent as you truly describe? I have often wondered why my mother and father have neglected to tell me of this wonderful person, saving the city and watching out for your well being. Please, Jack, I want you to be careful as you work and I am so relieve you've found an apartment! And purple and green sheets –Jack, dear, you shouldn't have. _

_As for now, darling, I will wait for our arrival in Gotham. And when I get off that train, I will bask in all the glorious love you have kept on hold for us. I cannot wait to see your smiling face. _

_With love, _

_Kailey_

**II. GOTHAM TRAIN STATION**

Jack Napierre sat in the shadows of the station, awaiting the arrival of his wife and daughter. The sun glittered through the glass, of the blue sky that floated above him and the people bustled and hurried onto train departures and others came clumsily off arriving routes.

He adjusted to both the lull of boisterous conversation surrounding him amongst the crowds of people, and to the noise of the train's pressure valves releasing. He was constantly tapping his loafers on the wooden deck he stood on and flickering his vibrant emerald eyes to the screens displaying the arrival times and departure times of certain trains.

He then pulled up the wrist cuff of his blazer to glance at his watch and sighed impatiently seeing that he still have at least another five or six minutes of waiting. He couldn't contain both the excitement and tension rising in the pit of stomach. He shuffled in between the shadows of the brick walls of the enormous train station and the glass over cast, magnifying the sun's warm rays over his face. He finally decided to stoop upon a bench, in the middle of the deck and pulled one of his legs to prop over his other knee, shaking his body impatiently.

He ran his fingers through his thick, curling short blonde hair and looked anxiously around until he saw their train ease slowly onto the loading deck, however something felt terribly wrong as he heard cries of terror escaping from the train itself. His anxiety instantly fell through his stomach and he jumped to his feet just as a shadow dashed over his head briefly.

When Jack's eyes darted from the train to the sky, he saw the Batman crawling through a brick pillar, underneath the glass roof and descend upon the top of the train.

There was silence as his cautious steps made a clanking noise and Jack felt his mouth drop in both awe and fright along the crowds of people watching, just as he was…

A burst of screams ensued as the Batman dodged a flash of hundreds of bullets that penetrated the top of train's ceiling, breaking the glass roof and hundreds of shards glass fell all around them.

Jack fell to his knees, covering his head with his hands and felt glass fall on his back and scattered all around him. Before he could look up he heard screams surround him and as his eyes flickered up he saw another arriving train collide into the back of Kailey and Matilda's train—!

He bolted upward and ran toward the impending crash and before him he saw the trains crash together as he managed to almost reach the loading dock.

"NO"—!

His cries were silenced when the both trains burst into an explosion and knocked Jack backwards as a stray of twisted metal cascaded towards his face. Before Jack had time to react the metal impaled his delicate and handsome face, slicing into the gaping opening of his fragile mouth, cutting and lodging itself deeply into his face. He fell to the ground, crawling now, amongst the glass shards decorating the ground. He looked up and saw the Batman crawling into the wreckage.

In shock and disbelief, Jack felt pain surge through his mouth as it filled quickly with blood and chewed on the pieces of his own teeth, serrated by the thick metal that still protruded from his mouth. He gasped for air as he tried to calm himself. His whole body shook and blood poured over his lips, flowing in thick rivulets over his neck and soaking his dress shirt and blazer. People were running and fleeing, others, like him watched more unfold as the trains continued to burn. Someone tried helping him up, and pulled Jack away from the wreckage but he fought as he still heard the helpless cries of the people inside the trains.

"No! No! No!" Jack croaked, ripping the current wound that had slit the right side of his mouth and face. He managed to pull himself from his savior, an older man, and gave him a pleading face.

"You can't!" The man shouted, as Jack trudged from his grasp.

"My wife and child are in there!" Jack cried, splitting his wound deeper and when he tried ripping the sharp metal out he succeeded in only cutting his hands. Jack cried out in agony as he lay slumped in a heap of his own blood and watched some of his teeth fall out of his mouth, covered in deep crimson and thick spit.

All he could imagine was Kailey's sweet face, covered in blood, ripped in half even, lying motionless over Matilda's crushed, limp body. The imagery frightened him, making his breath hitch and catch in his throat. His heart felt as if busted into a million pieces, allowing that subtle fear of doom and commotion rupture beneath his stomach, setting fire to the rest of his entire body. His eyes were playing tricks, replaying the nasty crash and the horrific images of Kailey and Matilda -he couldn't make it go away, all he could see was the color red and rusted metal. All he could see was the fire and the smell of diesel and gasoline, making him nauseous.

All the blood and tang metallic taste, filling his mouth made him almost gag but he couldn't just leave them in there, dead or alive.

Jack still carried his maimed body towards the raging flames of the accident and watched the Batman pull people from the wreckage. Jack managed to glance at him in awe, hoping somehow he could pull his wife and daughter from the mounds of twisted and burning metal but he never saw them emerge until he blacked out in a puddle of his own blood…

**III. GOTHAM MEDICAL CENTER**

Jack was sitting in upright position, facing the adjacent wall of his hospital bed and he heard the lulled beep of his own heartbeat monitor. He saw to his left the drips of morphine filling a pouch the pierced his arms with an IV.

He shook his body up, trying to remember what happened until it hit him...It came in a flash and it harder than a brick! Kailey and Matilda were gone, and here he was, safe and unharmed, for the most part, looking past the hardship with bright eyes and breathing so happily but aging so poorly within the new light of such a horrible realization. He couldn't rip the image out of his head-! Kailey's body, crushed, broken and covered in thick, deep red blood, dripping from head to toe and the distinct look of flesh burning into a black frayed sack of bone. Matilda's little face, broken in, and her body mangled and torn open, with the vivacious color of red as well...her eyes rolling backwards and falling into the sharp metal and hot flames...

Jack shook himself, crazily, begging to remain dominant, instead of submissive, to the distracting images his mind kept making up. He wanted it to disappear and hoped that somehow he'd wake up, back in his two bedroom apartment, reading the letter Kailey sent and being so that he'd see her again -he wished it was a dream....

The right side of his face was wrapped securely within a gauze, tightening over his jawline and extended up into his cheekbones, reaching the tip of his right ear. Each time he tried to move his tongue around, he felt the cotton ball and swabs move along with the grinding of what little of his teeth remained. He wishes to look in the mirror at his reflection to find some sort of sanity between his flesh and bones and the person who would stare back but at this thought he was too afraid to look at himself.

Jack complacently and silently continued to stare at the walls, hearing the nurses' heels clatter against the floor, just outside his room and a crack of hallway light shown in his dimly lit room.

Just then a young nurse, with blonde hair came flowing into the room with a clipboard in her hand and a couple bottles in her hands.

"Jack," She asked calmly.

He only nodded, in fear of ripping his wound and when she saw his responsiveness she eagerly stepped forward to meet his face.

"I'm Nurse Robinson," She offered with a smile, despite the depressing theme in which he was in.

"And I'll be looking after you this evening." She immediately attended his morphine pouch and saw there was plenty left but then she showed him the bottles.

"Now, Jack," She said sweetly, "these are painkillers, do you still need them?"

Jack nodded and cracked open his mouth as wide as he could without exerting pain and she quickly dumped them in, giving him a paper cup of water.

"There." She prounounced, checking his vitals.

"Terrible accident," She tisked as she scribbled on her clipboard, "I'm surprised you survived that injury! But thank God you did."

"T-T-tell me," He croaked, trying not to open his mouth, rather talk through his teeth, "what was the cause of it?"

"Oh," She attended him, holding his mouth steady, eyeing him warily as she saw his eye reflect anguish "be careful. Um Oh! The accident, they say, was caused by a hijacking but when the Batman showed up, it delayed the train's specific unloading time and when that took too much time, they were too late to tell the other train's arrival of the delay…so," She trailed off sadly, "they crashed. I am terribly sorry you were part of it"—

"M-m-my w-wife and da-aughter were in the train that was hijacked." He ground his teeth together, angrily, trying to fight the sadness that rolled incessantly in his veins.

"Oh my god…" Her voice became silent, fragile to his ears but he didn't want pity –none of it!

"Don't pity me," Jack growled.

**III. GOTHAM MEDICAL CENTER; LATE THAT EVENING **

Jack sat upright, pulling the gauze of his face and before him, in the bathroom mirror, he saw his flesh ripping open in an ironical sort of half grin, extending to his dimples.

His eyes became dark when instantly seeing the red and puss filled flesh gnawing in his vision. It even appeared frayed at the corners of his mouth but he knew that was the dead skin peeling. His tried moving his mouth a little but found that the pain became intense. His angry impulsiveness made him punch the mirror in regression.

The glass shattered, allowing cracks to divide his single image into a thousand faces. He studied for a few minutes, absorbing the splintering wrist trickling up his wrist. He could still see his reflection and the thousands of half smiling mocking him with every glance.

He retracted his fist, feeling the blood oozing out in rivulets and he merely picked up a shattered piece that had fallen in the sink and without another glance he brought it to the other, unscathed side of his face.

"Let's put a smile," He whispered to himself, grudgingly, "on this face…"

**So, living in poverty, Jack sought a better life for his family where he could fully provide for them, despite Vanessa's declining health and Kailey's absence. He was so intent on seeing them that it only struck his downfall when losing them. He lost everything, his family, his hope and eventually, falling into a deep depression and never leaving his apartment lead him to lose his job and hating the Batman for not saving his family. He cut himself a new smile and vowed revenge, and show the people of Gotham that controlling their lives was pathetic. The next chapter will bring us back to the present time -hope you enjoyed! **


	5. Heroes and Villains

**CHAPTER FOUR: HEROES AND VILLAINS **

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: SO THIS BRINGS US BACK TO THE PRESENT TIME. NOW THAT THE PAST HAS BEEN DUALLY NOTED ITS TIME TO PROGRESS INTO THE STORY! **

**I. RESTAURANT **

"So," Lydia calmly composed herself amongst the millions of staring eyes in her direction, "you said you owned this place?"

"I do." Bruce spoke fluently with a thousand dollar smile.

"You must be some kind of millionaire, what exactly is your job?"

"Heh," Bruce chuckled lightly, " well

After ordering their food and drinks Lydia remained quietly observing the beautiful sight of such a prestigious resturant, and breathing in the heavenly scent of wine and perfume. Her surroundings were almost boiling into her viens, making her somewhat ill at ease, still seeing half hearted glances tossed in her direction, however, she noticed Bruce kept flickering his dark eyes at her as well.

"Am I making you uncomfortable?" He asked.

"Not at all…it's just, I feel under dressed," She glanced at herself, seeing that her black cocktail gown was almost the plainest thing in the vicinity. No beads, or shining rinestones, just a simple little black dress.

"Don't let them bother you. You look fine." He took a sip of his red wine. Lydia watched him swallow and gave a crooked smile.

"You're use to this, aren't you? I mean…with everyone looking at you -er"—

"Not yet." He laughed.

"I'm sorry, I suppose I'm the one who isn't used to the city like you are."

"You said you grew up in New Jersey?"

"I did. I didn't like the city very much though."

"Then why did you come to Gotham?"He asked casually.

"It's the home of Gotham University's most pretentious textiles schools. The best on the east coast so naturally, I had no greater option other than GU. Besides…I wanted us to meet, Bruce."

Bruce laughed and took another drink of his wine. He winked cheerfully at her and just as he did so the waiter returned with their entrees.

"So you want to work with…clothes? Anything in particular?"

"Hm. Yes, but I'm hoping to get a business degree too. I'd like to start my own custom tailoring shop. But as far as clothes are concerned, I'd prefer to work on gowns and dresses. Hm…anything formal, I guess." She answered, beaming.

"Oh? That sounds great. I have no fashion sense, maybe you could show me a thing or two, heh." He chuckled, cutting his knife into his steak.

"Perhaps," She joked "but you seem to have to swing of things as far as dressing professionally."

"You think so?" He laughed pulling at his two buttoned suit.

"Hah," She mused, "most definitely, however, I don't think blue is quite your color, Bruce." She motioned for the button up dress shirt underneath the black suit jacket.

"I'll keep that in mind." He smirked, taking a bite of his food.

**II. WAYNE ENTERPRISE WAREHOUSE (RESTRICTED AREA)**

"I don't mean to question your authority, Bruce, but um…are we allowed to be in here?" Lydia asked timidly, peering from the safety of Bruce's Lamborghini window. Her eyes scanned the darkness of the black sky above, observing the stars that glittered but the moon poured it's starlight upon the old warehouse, taking Lydia's nerves onto a limb.

"I own the area, actually," He smirked, "so, need to worry."

"Well damn," She joked, "I never would've guessed you owned this place too."

"Shocking, I know." He mused right back, cutting a smirk in her humorous glance. She watched him, returning a small smile but returned her eyes to the rocky road they traveled upon. The warehouse was fast coming, almost like imminent danger, glaring with angry eyes back at her in the stark blackness of the night sky. Lydia's brows furrowed and her stomach shifted uncomfortably.

It looked old, abandoned and lonely, just sitting in it's little plot of dirt but the rev of the engine almost gave the place a dark, contained feeling. It was beginning to unnerve Lydia once more.

"So…what's out here?"

"I'll show you. It's something very important to me…I hope it's important to you too." Bruce gave a light, eerie laugh as they parked at the entrance

**III. INTERIOR RESTRICTED WAREHOUSE**

When the elevator finally reached the floor, Lydia was afraid to step into the darkness until the fluorescent light bulbs above her started tinkering on, flickering pools of light, section by section, lit an enormous room.

The room contained lots of machinery, including a huge car, the Tumbler and tables, containing weapons and guns, perhaps even hook shots, from what Lydia saw from her perch, it was almost like a liar of some kind, a modern, secret liar.

Bruce was the first to step off and approached the computer monitors, nine or ten screens, all displaying various information and depicting different news reports, even a GPS system were all glaring and flickering on before her. She followed close by, afraid to touch anything else less.

"What is all this?" She asked, quietly, "I'm sorry, I don't understand. What does all this mean?"

"It's alright. You might not understand but I feel it's best you know my secret…" He approached the computer desk and initiated a code that unlocked a floor container.

Lydia glanced to her right and saw a case coming out of the concrete floor and within it's cages a suit, completely black and heavily equipped with armor was mounted in it; a bat symbol engraved in the chest plate…

"Bruce…I-I," She sighed, furrowing her brows, "I'm afraid I have no idea what this is about…I…" She trailed off, laying her eyes within the case and admired the beautifully dark suit. It looked positively haunted.

"Lydia," He said, appearing close beside her, and opening it's doors, "I am the Batman. You may not know anything about Batman but you will soon enough, if you're going to be living in this city. I want you to know that I'll keep you safe, no matter what." He whispered.

"The Batman? Like…a superhero?" She had trouble organizing her thoughts.

"Sort of. I try my best to protect this city from scum. With Gotham being number one in the rising crime rate, I want you to know that I won't let anything happen to you. I lost mom and dad but I won't lose you. I know this all may be…odd, and I understand if you find me unusual"—

"Bruce," Lydia intercepted his sentence, "It's alright. You don't have to explain. While I have no idea what this secret of yours means, I do trust you. I assume I mustn't tell a soul about this…should I?"

"Absolutely not." He gave a light laugh.

"So…let me get this straight," She mused sardonically, with a light laugh, "you're a millionaire, and a superhero? Hah, geeze Bruce," She laughed, "what can't you do? This is…crazy." She gave in to perfect amazement.

Lydia approached the cage urging for a touch but found that with each time she looked at the suit she became fearful but so oddly fascinated. She would've never dreamed this dark knight, this creepy persona, to possess such a host as her brother but the idea was simply marvelous! It's soul was seeping through her veins, almost making her tremble with every breath she took.

She graced her fingertips over the contours of the suit, outlining the Batman symbol and she was looked into the empty space of the face mask. She shivered.

"I will keep this secret. I promise." She said.

"Thank-you," He responded, "And I won't let anything happen to you, Lydia, I swear it."

**III. JOKER'S COMPLEX**

"So boss," One of the rugged lackeys asked, unloading the bags of money, "how are we suppose to be stealing all that money?"

"What's it to you newbie?" One of the men joked, pushing him to the ground. He grabbed another huge bag and threw it to the Joker. He caught it, unzipping and arranging the mounds of rolled organized smaller bags. They watched him as he counted the smaller bags and then counting the three large ones. The Joker began stacking them together and then noticed the newbie still awaiting answer.

"You think it's all about money, huh?" He asked, venomously.

"Uh…no boss, I was just uh"— The Joker rammed the newbie against the wall of the bus, just outside of their run down apartment and jabbed his wrist into his neck. He started hacking hard for air, begging to talk but the Joker wouldn't allow him.

"What? What was that? You trying to talk?"

"Boss –come –ack!" He stuttered back spit and some dribbled outside of the corner of his mouth.

Not to far from the commotion, a look-alike Batman copy cat, named Brian watched from afar, behind the dumpster of the corner apartment, clutching his gun tightly. His jaw started quivering, catching eye of the make-up painted face of the Joker and his lackeys crowding around the dozens of small and large bags. The Joker began suffocating the person…

His eyes faltered when the dark eyes of the hellion caught his own and Brian wanted now only to walk away –run even, but his mind was too drawn into the new criminal that was about to unfold.

The Joker, suddenly dropped the newbie and he came slamming on his rear into the pavement, and knocking his eyes on the bottom of the bus' undercarriage. He was hacking and cough, gasping for air and watching the Joker walk towards someone, running in the opposite direction.

"Ah shit! Is that him? The Batman?" The other henchmen asked before hi tailing behind the Joker. The rest of the boys started towards soon after, leaving the newbie by himself.

"So what have we here? Is it the Batman himself, come to find me out already?" The Joker started to run crazily after Brian. The look alike wasn't catching much speed opposing the man's agility chasing behind. The Joker knocked him to the ground and spung upon him, laughing to himself.

**Interesting. So...Lydia has no idea what or who the Batman truly is and she has no idea what kind of theatrical crooks are about to hit the streets -well, she's in for a big surprise! **


	6. A Gentle Stranger

**CHAPTER FIVE: A GENTLE STRANGER **

**I. BRUCE'S PENTHOUSE. **

Lydia arose with her hair untamed and crazily wild in all it's ruffled brown chocolate glory. Even within the early morning, her beauty ceased the shine through. However, without the mask of her own make-up, the scar curving from her lips was ever more visible, rising somewhat with a pinkish tint…

Her eyes were dark and drawing towards the clock; 9:45am.

Lydia put on her teal silk robe and made her way through the long winding hallway and found her nose drawing towards the fluffy smell of eggs frying and heard the crackling of bacon sizzling from the kitchen.

"Good morning Miss Lydia," Alfred greeted cheerfully, shining his smile at her, "did you have pleasant sleep?"

"Yes. Where's Bruce?" She asked.

"Already at work. I thought you might want some breakfast before you went to GU."

"Wow. It smells great. I'd love some…Do you…do you do this every morning? I mean for Bruce or is this…just an occasion?" She chuckled taking a seat in the neighboring breakfast nook.

"Yes. I'm usually up before Master Wayne is awake." Alfred said, eyeing the scar on her lip and cheek. He kept his mouth quiet, not wanting to make her uncomfortable.

"Oh, well this all very generous of you." She smiled.

Alfred came into the room with a basket of toast and set it in front of her. He gathered a plate from the cabinet and set it in front of her with a set of silverware.

"Alfred, has Bruce told you his secret as well? Or"—

"No need to hesitate Lydia, think of it as a family secret and to answer your question fully, then yes, I am aware of Master Wayne's decisions as to becoming the Batman. I assume he hasn't expressed his double life with you?"

"Yes, he did but…if I may ask, why? Why is he…this Batman?"

Alfred was quiet for a few moments, leaving Lydia on the edge of her seat and she started tapping her plate uneasily until Alfred entered with breakfast. He settled adjacent from her.

"Like you were explained, your and Bruce's parents murder was done by one of the most notorious mob leaders in Gotham. Originally, I believe it just wanted to avenge their death but once he saw the terror these people did to this city, it only expanded into various and more terrible groups of organized crime. Batman has always saw it fit to protect, even if he is an outlaw, this city the best way he knew."

"An outlaw –like, uh, a vigilante?"

"Quiet right," Alfred chuckled.

"How so?" She asked, sipping her orange juice. She picked her fork into the scrambled eggs.

"He's broken several laws but very minor. For example destruction of public and private property or trespassing however, he works very close with Gotham PD so I doubt they'll ever try to reign against Batman's purpose." He explained fluently.

"Oh. I see." She said.

"You shouldn't be afraid of Bruce, Lydia, if you are. He may lead a double life but the sacrifice he's making to Gotham is vital. He believes there's more good in this city than evil and he won't allow anything to happen to you."

"I understand it's just…strange. He's not an unusual person, that's not what I'm saying but this experince it's so very new. I haven't been this intrigued in years."

**II. UNIQUITIES (AFTER GU REGISTRATION AND OPEN HOUSE) **

"Hello…Miss?" –

"Lydia Crenshaw, pleased to meet you Mr. Beckett. I'm looking forward to my interview." She responded very composed, gathering her porfolio behind her and following him into his office.

"Well, it's always nice to have eager applicants, please," He offered, walking behind his desk and pointing to the seat, "have a seat."

"So you've shown a great deal of interest in textiles from the looks of your resume," The man said casually, looking over both her portfolio and resume, he prodded with easy enough questions but with no awkwardness in their meet, which Lydia mentally praised. She hadn't even begun chewing her fingers, or tapping her foot.

"And you say you've been enrolled at the textiles school, for the fall program, at GU?"

"That's correct sir." She responded respectively, nodding.

"That's all very well, but have you had any past experience with a job like this?"

"I used to work in a craft shop in New Jersey, throughout my entire high school career. I measured fabrics and things like that. Is there any specific qualifications for the internship?"

"Not really but you say you know how to take measurements? Like, not just for prototypical uses but for customers as well?"

"Yes sir."

"Well, that's even better," He mused, with a chuckle, folding the resume's folder. Lydia felt herself quirk now with apprehension.

"You've got the job Ms. Crenshaw but not an internship, you're much too qualified for that but I want you as my assistant. I need a little help with customer service and it greatly benefit me if could measure them and order the fabrics, if they have any specifications that is, for them. Are you interested in starting tomorrow?"

"Yes sir!" She said with glee. She stood now taking his hand in hers and shaking very excitedly.

"Now, let's talk about hours," He sighed, pulling about a time sheet, "The store opens at 11 am everyday, seven days a week and closes at 7 pm. Since you're starting school, what's the best time for you?"

"Well, I don't have classes on Tuesdays but for the rest of the week I do have classes from 8 to about 1:30 straight, however anytime after that? What times do you need me to be working?" She asked instead.

"I'd like to see you here at opening and working till closing, but when school starts I'd like to have you here about 2:30 and working until about 6? Does that work for you? I'd like to train you as best as I can." He smiled.

"Ah," Lydia grinned, "that would be great! Thank you so much, Mr. Beckett." She bent over to shake his hand.

"You're most certainly welcome and I look forward working with you tomorrow." He smiled, handing her portfolio.

"Thank you so much" Lydia praised in modesty before exiting the shop.

**III. BRUCE'S PENTHOUSE. **

"I assume the interview went well?" Alfred asked, seeing Lydia smiling as she waltzed through the doors.

"Yes! I got the job and the open house went great. I start school in less than a month."

"Well that's all very well," Bruce commented as he walked from the hallway entrance.

"Oh Bruce!" She exclaimed, "I've never been so happy! It's almost as if life is finally starting to fall in place. And now that I've got the job, I won't have to stay here and bother you and Alfred." Her face bright and illuminated with anticipation and glory. Bruce felt his smile fade somewhat.

"You want to leave?" Alfred asked, confused.

"Huh? No, not at all. It's not like that at all. What I mean by that is that you and Bruce won't have to take care of me. I am perfectly capable of taking care of myself, you know." She reassured, setting her purse on the kitchen island. Bruce and Alfred stood in the doorway until Alfred attended to the stove.

"You're not a burden, you know, Miss Lydia," Alfred spoke quietly, "I actually enjoy your company with Bruce's busy schedule."

"If you'd feel better on your own," Bruce whispered, feeling somewhat disconjointed, "then you're free to leave but if you ever need somewhere to stay, you know you are always welcome here. I more than enough room and enough money at your expense."

"I know…I understand. I just want that feeling of independence, you know? Not that you and Alfred inhibit that feeling but I've always been taken care of. I want to feel what it means to take care of myself." She smiled, rubbing Bruce's shoulder before she dismissed herself.

Her heels clicked upon the marble floors and descended into a patter like thud as her body disappeared down the hallway. Bruce watched her silhoutte disengrate into the shadows before looking back at Alfred.

"Master Wayne," He said, "she'll be fine. You can't make her do something she wishes not to do. Let her be free. If you make her stay here, she'll be miserable. Think of that time you caught that Monarch Butterfly…you kept it in a jar and what happened to it?"

"It…died."

"Physically yes, but think of Lydia as that Monarch…metaphorically speaking, she just wouldn't be happy." Alfred reassured, "She'll be fine. However, I do suggest you help her pick out a suitable apartment and we'll neogociate payments with her. I doubt she'll find a decent apartment without having to pay more than she can afford."

"Right. I'll set her up an appointment with some places that I"—

"Master Wayne, you have to remember, it's not your apartment. Just help her look for what she's looking for." Alfred chuckled.

"Oh," Bruce sighed, "right." He laughed lightly.

**IV. FIRST DAY OF WORK (LUNCH BREAK)**

Lydia managed to sweep off the rest of her lunch break with a dash to the ATM to a bank only around the corner. She hadn't eaten all day and only wanted to grab a bite from a concessions stand near the downtown business court but saw she only a few minutes left.

"Damn it," She cursed under breath as she entered her pin. She stood erect and tall, gracefully punching in the numbers as her other hand held firmly to her purse.

The money spilled out and she walked quickly out the huge glass doors. At the same time two men came rushing up just as she slid into the open air of Gotham's downtown, east side corner, stepping onto a few steps before she was rudely knocked over. She went tumbling down, loosing balance on her heels but was caught by her passerby.

When she caught her breath to glance at the arm who grasped her waist she saw the face of her captor; his face concealed with in a juvenile clown mask that stared at her with dark eyes.

Completely mystified by his apparence she remained in his embrace as the silent seconds drove by. Her eyes flickered, trying to breathe in the entirety of his attire and noticed no words escaped between them.

She calmed her footing, in complete mystery as he dropped his grip and turned to run inside. Her eyes followed the skirting of his shirt, as his feet carried in from whence she came.

Captivated and both spooked, she stood for moments watching the glass doors open and close on the man who caught her. His fleeting figure began to disappear into the dark shadows of the bank. Without much ado, she stepped lightly away, now observing the time on her watch.

She'd have to run to make it back in time before her lunch break ended…

**V. REAL ESTATE AGENCY**

"So you're looking for a loft?"

"Yes. However, depending on availability and price, I can also settle for an apartment too." She answered. Bruce was sitting directly next to her and nodded in agreement.

"What kind of budget are we talking about?" The man asked, adjusting his glasses and peering into the computer screen.

"Um"—

"Nothing exceeding six hundred thousand." Bruce interjected.

The man stopped clicking and lowered his reading glasses and stared at Bruce and then glanced at Lydia.

"Are you assisting in the monthly payments then?"

"No"—

"Yes." Bruce spoke swiftly. Lydia tugged his sleeve.

"Could you, um, excuse us for a moment please?" She asked.

The man gave a nod before offering his hand toward the door behind them. Bruce and Lydia existed out.

"Bruce, I know you're trying to help but I can"—

"I don't doubt you. Please know that Lydia but I have more than enough money that I know what to do with. I want to help…can you understand that I am just assisting you? I'd feel better knowing you had a nice place and I'd like to help pay."—

"Nothing over six hundred thousand? Are you kidding me? That's five hundred thousand dollars over my budget." Her mouth went agape.

"Then let me pay it off by myself."

"What? No." She snapped.

Bruce watched her eyes grow nervous. He softened his expression.

"I won't let you stay in something shabby." He said quietly.

"And I won't let you pay for everything."

"Alright…how about you let me pay the rent and you can for any other expenses?"

"What do you mean? Like food and clothes? That stuff?"

"Yes. I'll take care of the rent and you can get whatever else you want with the money you make working."

Lydia thought for a moment, looking back at the door to the Agent's office and then tapped her foot. She looked apprehensively at Bruce and saw that he was indeed serious and very compassionate towards her.

"I have one other condition," He said quietly, "that you find whatever loft you want just as long as it near my place…"

"Bruce, you can't keep me sheltered," She sighed, "But I'll do that on one of my own conditions," She smirked.

"What is it?"

"That you lower the budget."

"Fine. Five hundred thousand." He said.

"Bruce…" She narrowed her eyes.

"Four hundred?" He asked. Her eyes remained narrow and her stance not all moved an inch.

"Three Hundred. No lower." He brooded.

"…Fine." She gave in.

**VI. BRUCE'S PENTHOUSE**

"Did everything go accordingly?" Alfred asked seeing Bruce and Lydia come walking through the door.

"Well we saw a few nearby that I liked very much but Bruce said he'd like for you and him to go over a few of the financial businesses about them. He says he wants a closer look at the books." She mocked, with a half crooked smile.

"Very well then." Alfred chuckled.

In the adjacent connecting room they heard the TV blaring. Alfred motioned for Bruce to follow and Lydia became alert, watching them entered the parlor. She immediately followed.

Mike Egal was reporting live for Gotham News and his face seemed acute with a disdainful look of fear.

"Tonight we bring you special coverage from Gotham Citizens Bank in the east side town of Gotham. Miracle Knightdale reporting live…What's happened over there Miracle?" He asked.

An image simultaneously appeared on the left side of the screen. A younge reporter was seen holding a microphone in her hand and she was staring at the screen. Behind her was the Gotham Citizens Bank and it send shivers down Lydia's spine when seeing the destruction of it's side-front doors; that was the same bank she visited earlier that afternoon to retrieve some money…

"Hey Mike! What we can gather from surveillance is that Gotham Citizens Bank was robbed earlier today by a group of men wearing clown mask! They were able to infiltrate the entire building and stole almost sixty nine billion dollars however witnesses explain that only one man notoriously emerged with all the money, leaving all his men dead and one severely injured. " She spoke freely, pushing a stray bang from her face.

"Can you give us any description of the men in the mask, Miracle?" Mike asked.

"I can give you a live video fee from the surveillance from earlier this afternoon, Mike." She nodded.

Just then the screen zipped into a raspy video, showing the break in and three men, all wearing clown mask but distinctively different from one another running through the doors.

"That's him…" Lydia spoke quietly.

Bruce eyed her cautiously and turned his attention from the screen to her now. She glanced over, noticing the double stare Bruce and Alfred were exchanging in her direction.

"That's him?" Alfred questioned.

"Yes. I-I was on my lunch break and I went to that bank to pull a twenty out and when I was leaving that guy," She pointed to screen, her nail showing vividly of the man who wore the frowning mask, "knocked me over"—

"What?" Bruce narrowed his eyes, "Did he"—

"That's all that happened. I swear. I didn't think anything of it because he caught my fall. I did think the clown mask was a little over done but I mean"—

"Did he hurt you?"

"Bruce," She sighed, "I'm not helpless. He just ran into me and knocked me over. Like I said, he caught me and then ran back inside. Nothing happened."

Their attention was turned back to the screen when Mike Egal came on once more without Miracle's assistance and just then, Bruce stormed out of the room.

"I assume you'll be meeting with the Commissioner then?" Alfred called.

"Yes. Don't wait up!" Bruce called before slamming the front door.

Lydia still stared at the screen feeling horror cover within her spine. It was if she was too scared to move. She couldn't believe, as she kept replaying the strange man helping her keep her balance, that he would've robbed the place –perhaps, she thought vaguely, he might've already been killed, since only one of the robbers emerged with the money.

Alfred watched her as he attended in the kitchen .

"Is something the matter?"

"Does this kind of stuff," She asked, walking back into the kitchen, "always happen in Gotham? Robberies? Stuff like that?"

"Frequently, yes. Sadly, enough we have to rely on Batman to sort this kind of injustice but…it's the best we can do." He answered.

"What if he's not enough?" She asked.

Alfred wasn't expecting such a question and honestly, he hadn't prepared himself enough for an answer.

"You know, Miss Lydia," He frowned, "I don't know. I imagine Gotham would eventually rot."

"I just can't cloud the feeling that something bad is about to happen…" She whispered barely audible. Alfred tried listening but intended asking nothing. Lydia seemed deep in thought and her eyes kept scanning the floor.

"Why don't you get some sleep?" He offered.

"Yea," She nodded, "I should. I have work at 11."

**AHHH. Now things are starting to heat up, however, by the next chapter, you'll be up to speed and you'll finally see the chemistry blooming between the Joker and Lydia! Until next time... :)**


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